Touch
by bakusuki
Summary: Just a bunch of prompts will be posted here for my favourite pairing, Kai/Hilary. Just a collection of different scenarios, and probably these two being adorable idiots. Prompts are sent through Tumblr!
1. Chapter 1

I mostly release my writing on Tumblr now, through the use of prompts mostly. So I decided to put a bunch of my favourite prompts involving my favourite pairing into like a small bunch of small ficlets. They will vary in lengths, and focus around different prompts. If you want to send in a prompt, please feel free to find me at shinsoushitoshi. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these just as much as I enjoyed writing them. Apologies if the updating is slow.

 **Disclaimer:** _I do not own Beyblade obviously, nor am I claiming to hold any rights to it's creation. I just really enjoy writing little things for my own pleasure, and for other peoples viewing pleasure._

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 **Prompt: Don't touch me right now.**

There's an edge to his words. There always is. A sharp edge. A razor sharp edge that threatens to shred all within its proximity. There is always a sharp depth to his words, and whenever he speaks he manages to reach new depths. Hilary sharply hums in response. It is all that she can provide without instigating an argument with him, and she doesn't want that, but she's respected his wishes for far too long, constantly putting himself before her, her own needs played for his own personal gain.

He never realises this. Or at least, if he does, he never seems to say so. She supposes that she doesn't mind, not when it comes to him. She can allow his moods to slide, and she can allow herself to take the brunt of his weight, if it means that others don't see him at his weakest, and God forbid should Kai allow anyone to see him so easily broken.

"Well, either you sort your hand yourself, or I do." Her voice is stern, and holds a pitch to it that she never realised that she had, whereas Kai thinks her voice serves as a song. A sweet Symphony. A harmony belonging to a well tuned orchestra. He won't say so, however. He never does. That's something reserved for a long song, and Kai is far from a love song. At her words, he didn't even flinch, but remains with the thumb of his right hand lodged over his palm, whilst his fingers curl upside the back of his hand, in the efforts of supporting it. His actions hold no gain, and he huffs impatiently.

"Huff and puff all you like Kai, but you're not getting out of this." At first the distance that had been spread between them felt like centuries, but Hilary was quick to cross that border. Digits are careful threads, a spider silk webbing that ghosts politely over Kai's hands, until she is threatening to hold them.

 _Don't touch me right now. Not right now_. That is what he had said, and she had become exhausted with his dry efforts to keep her at bay. He returns daily with new wounds, some are minor scraps and scratches, some are ugly traces of persistence, as Kai attempts to push himself to newer limits. Some are so minor, they've barely penetrated one's epidermis, and others are piercing, meshed by dried blood, or strung by beads of fresh blood, attempting to form strings upon his skin.

"You never look after yourself." Never is an understatement, she knows all too well. She notes the burn of his eyes, the piercing grey that manages to scold her, but shall not fray her careful lines. Her mouth purses and she's drawn to squeeze ever so lightly. He never moves, never flinches, he wouldn't dream of doing so. Her touch is polite and never interfering. It is gentle and warming, it can be severe but it never inflicts.

"It's fine."

"It is fine now. Until you stop cleaning it, and then it isn't fine. It just needs cleaning. _And a bandage_. Looking after yourself is hardly going to put yourself out of commission. You can still train." He can still be a lot of things, and apparently, a pain in the arse is one of them. Regardless, her smile is neutral, and the corners of her lips manage to reach her cheeks. _Let me look after you. Idiot_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt: Did you use my cologne?**

He recognises the smell. It's a strong scent, but never too strong. A small amount is just enough, but this is slightly overbearing. Only slightly, but it's enough to leave his brows furrowing in the efforts of thinking of _something else_. There's movement before him, the door carefully pushed to an open, allowing grey eyes to meet the chestnut tinge of her eyes. She's smiling, and had it have been anyone, he might have claimed that she looked ridiculous. She didn't. She never did.

She's balancing a tray between a set of hands, balancing two glasses and two bowls, and he assumes that there is cutlery amongst them too. There is no assumption. _There is_. He can hear it rattling it.

"Did you use my cologne? You smell like me." Kai states, eye brows twitching in anticipation, not that he really needs an answer. He already knows. He watches as she places the tray down aside of him, two bowls with minimal pattern, two glasses so idly placed amongst one another, a carton of orange, and a few other things that made a mild selection.

"That was rhetorical." Hilary states, hands firm upon her hips, with her hips slightly edged to one side. Kai had to admit she looks good, sporting his t-shirt, creased and crinkled in all the places, but it's still fitting, and he swears that he isn't getting it back from her.

"You know I like it. You left it on the side again." Her arms stretch out, slim under the slightly baggy t-shirt. Her hands reach and delicately splay upon his shoulders, digits sought all the sore and the untouchable areas, and sunk beneath them. There isn't a lot that soothes Kai, but a touch of calm and delicacy seems to work. Her fingers reach one again, palms settling at the near of his neck, whilst lithe digits crawl up into the span of his hair, twirling loose and lazy strands around them individually.

"You shouldn't leave it on the side. It's like leaving Tyson around a table of food. It's the golden rule of no's." Oh Gods, she laughs, and it sounds like the songbirds have announced their choir, and Kai could listen to her all day. There isn't a lot that he could listen too, there isn't a lot that he would stay long enough _to_ hear, but Hilary is the one thing that he would stay for.

Her chuckle chimes again when his fingers raise to her hips, calloused and individual, fitting like a puzzle piece to a body that fits him, and she's a sucker for his touch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Prompt: That's my only clean shirt.**

Hilary's face contorts with amusement, delight and coral tinged lips curling upwards as her chuckle passes her teeth. She's soon cupping her mouth, digits splayed across her flesh, with the intention of blocking out her laughter, or at least hiding the fact that she is, _in fact_ , laughing. She didn't need to hide it, Kai had already heard the laughter. He'd heard it brewing within her, noted how it had bubbled to the point where it couldn't be contained, and now he's wearing the soup stained shirt, with fingers locked into the hem of his material, attempting to hold the material at bay.

"You're supposed to eat that. Not wear it." She states between a bubbling laughter. It contains to flutter between her fingers, earning herself a stern look from Kai. That's great and everything, but that was his only clean shirt, and the other shirt he'd had, she'd obtained and was currently wearing.

"That's my only clean shirt." You're wearing the other. not that he needs to stay much more. Eventually, Hilary is smiling apologetically, it is her fault after all that he's covered in soup. She'd nudged him just as he was removing the bowl from the microwave, and hadn't realised that his grip wasn't that firm.

"I'm sure I have something you can wear." She retorts, one hand scooping under the material of his shirt, palm pressing up against it, whilst the other hands reaches for a wet cloth. She dabs at the material patiently, and whilst it's somewhat doing it's job, the stain is still visible, and she's almost choking on her laughter.

"You're not even remotely funny." Actually, she thinks she is, and she's currently attempting to mentally pick out the perfect t-shirt for him. Probably the brightest pink shirt that she could get her hands on, or the most floral in patterning. She's still faintly chuckling to herself at this point, still prodding and dabbing at his t-shirt, and he's still attempting to stand his ground, believing that Hilary was far from funny.

"I'll put it in the wash if it bothers you so much. You'll have to make do."

"You're wearing my other t-shirt."

"No. I'm wearing _my_ t-shirt." She reaches back up, responds to her full height, flicks out a fingers, and prod politely at his cheek. The tip of her finger wipes at a faint splash of soup.


	4. Chapter 4

**Prompt: I can feel your heart beating.**

At first, he barely registers her words, too busy being caught within the way the midnight shapes around her. Too busy being caught within how the moonlight flakes between the partly drawn blinds. Too busy being caught within the way it graces her bare legs, and shapes just at her hips. He's too busy ghosting finger tips amongst her hips, splaying over curves and tracing faint patterns, though he has no particular idea just what he's tracing into her skin.

Eventually, he idly hums, a feigned registration that she had spoken, and Hilary raises her brows in mild annoyance. Not that Kai actually notices the way her features contort with an essence of fury.

"Either you didn't hear me, or you're being ignorant." And neither surprises her to be honest. She etches that bit closer to allow her fingers to press lightly against his shoulders, as if in attempt to push him backwards. It works, but only just, and only because he wasn't paying attention, which isn't like him. The only time that Kai is anything but observant is when he's ill, and even then, _that's a rare occasion_. Or, something is bothering him, and he hasn't commented on anything yet.

"You're being ignorant, aren't you? Don't ignore me." A firm statement from Hilary, a sentence that holds a threat, a promise if needs be. Momentarily, she notes how the moonlights fickle gleam captures his face, how it moulds into position, and momentarily highlights features that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. It highlights the minor flaws, the little scuffs as a result from dangerous matches, scuffs that are usually well hidden, but when his guard is down and his mask is off, they become touchable.

"I wasn't ignoring you." It was more, he was too tangled within the moonlight blessed her, and how it could do so, in ways that Kai could only imagine was possible for himself. The moonlight has kind hands, oddly warm and generous, and they are genuine when they flutter the length of her frame, and he has rough hands. Scarred hands, and scuffed fingers, calloused digits and pained burned that resemble the past he's had. Hilary finds his hands to be strangely kind, timid. Sometimes his hands quake before they even have the opportunity to touch her, and Kai considers himself worthy of a lot of things, but not worthy of touching her.

"Alright then, so what did I say?" Nothing. He says nothing, just looks back at her, and shuffles within his place. One arm shifts, and rests behind his head in aid of supporting him whilst he watches her. Hilary's weight on the bed shifts from aside of him, and suddenly she's above him, thighs idly pressed aside of his hips, arms folded tightly across the span of her chest. He assumes that she must look somewhat annoyed by his apparent ignorance. _He just found her so beautiful_.

"Exactly, you weren't listening to me." Hilary's arms are still folded like a barricade, pressed tight, close and personal, and if anything, keeping her hands away from him, so they don't become an easy grab. Instead he's resting his free hand upon one of her thighs, thumbs dancing backwards and forwards across her skin, occasionally it shifts within position, to take up tracing a new pattern, but sinks back towards it's first position.

His eyes flutter upwards, and he watches her above him, his t-shirt loose upon her shoulders, hanging lightly against her waist, a mass of chestnut tinged tresses hanging loosely from her shoulders, escaping down her spine in a flurry, like a waterfall. _So freely cascading_. She's the most beautiful thing that he has ever seen.

"Daydreaming." His statement is blunt, but obvious, and she notes this. He used to ignore her bold statements and comments when they first met. She supposes that he used to write her off, like he wrote others off, but now he tends to ignore others if their statements are too within his face, or invade the barriers to which he creates. He rarely daydreams, it sounds almost like something that one of the others boy would do. Typically Chief whenever he hears the mention of Ming Ming. It doesn't seem like anything that Kai would do, but she doesn't press the matter further. She rolls her eyes instead and leans further over him.

"I said, I can feel your heart beating." Her hands have longed discarded themselves from around her chest and have moved to delicately ghost over his chest. Idly digits dance up the span of his chest, dotting patterns and tracing little things, little things that wouldn't make sense to others, but make all the sense to her. She's closer to him now, nose almost pressed up against his nose, his breaths so idly dancing between his slightly parted lips, and she feels it against her skin.

"That's soppy." Had it have been anyone else that would have said such a thing to her, she might have thumped them, or done anything to take back her comment, but it isn't just someone, it's Kai. Instead she prods her fingers a little harder into the dent of her chest, making her position known.

"Problem, wise guy?" Her brows have risen at this point, woven into one another, to form a faint constellation of contrasting colours amongst her flesh. She dips her head ever so faintly, her forehead pressed to his chest, a hand so idly seeking his hair, whilst the other is webbing with his hand. _I can still feel your heart beating_. And he's never felt so alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt: I'm right here, okay? You're all right.**

Not every night is like this, she's noticed. Most nights are peaceful and calm, and neither appear to stir. Other nights are bearable, and his abrupt stirring is noted by her. His abrupt stirring is felt through the way his fingers cling to the sheets, or the way that he so clearly knocks them from around his legs, or in the way that his weight shifts from around her, and she can no longer feel his weight, pressed flush against her.

There is the rare night, _such as last night_ , in which his very existence was shifted _so_ abruptly from around her, that her response was also to bolt upright. Before her was a silhouette of silence, a frame of flesh and bones, and deep within him does the storm crack. Deep within the depths of him that remain untouched, Kai finds that there is a plague that rattles hallow bones. To Hilary, Kai looked vulnerable, and yet even within the way that muscles tightened and trembled, he remained untouchable, a boy that would constantly be upon the edge of being out of her reach.

It was those sort of nights in which he would usually dismiss her comments, and efforts at small talk. It was those sorts of nights where the switch that was usually on when around her, was turned off, and he turned back in upon himself. It was those sorts of night where he'd usually have gotten out of the bed, and done something, anything, in aid of passing time, but last night had been somewhat different, and drenched within his silence, he'd drop back into her comfort.

In the morning, he'd barely stirred, but had worn his vulnerability like a second skin. It was an odd sight. Hilary always recalled him as powerful and firm. Fierce, _but kind_. She recalls him as gentle breeze that offers calm, but he can burn like the fires that home hell. He can scorch, and he can make your flesh bubble and blister, but he can also serve as a gentle song, a faint reminder within the way his lips would praise her flesh.

She remained settled aside of him, pressed upon her side as she watched him. Kai usually woke up first, it must have been a schedule that was fit for him, and his routines, but it was unusual to find him still buried deep within the pillows. It allowed her time, time to admire the way the faint light of sun would present itself upon his flesh, and how thankfully, it just managed to miss his eyes. It highlights the faint scuffs that are left upon his skin, the faint marks that remind her of his past matches, the little flaws that have come to define him.

Her fingers reach out, supple in flesh, and precise within their actions, tender was delicate tips guide themselves politely against his mouth. Her actions are faint, but even being faint, they manage to have him stir. Nose crinkles faintly, as if her fingers are lightly tickling him, and _of course_ , he wasn't expecting it.

"What are you doing?" He doesn't even open his eyes, barely opens his mouth either, so how he became so audible, she doesn't know. He doesn't move away from her offered touch however, he stays completely still, though Hilary couldn't tell if that was his intention, or if he genuinely couldn't find the motivation to move out of the way. Her brows furrow slightly, and her fingers shift from his mouth, to dance up the scale of his face, and into the slate tinge of his fringe.

"I'm playing poker, what do _you_ think, smart guy?" Her tone is playfully sharp, but never too sharp in which it could cut one's epidermis. He doesn't say anything, he certainly doesn't need to say anything, but it's within his best efforts, that he turns upon his opposing side, and she's left locking a hazel stare upon his back. Hilary's fingers carefully slide up the centre of his back, tips memorised by the length of his spine, intoxicated by the faint ripples of the disks, before she runs her hand over his shoulder, and politely ghosts it over his torso.

"I'm right here, okay?" Kai finds that her whisper is gentle, and yet intoxicating, and it leaves his skin shuddering delicately under her touch. He notes that her arm is wrapped around his middle, fingers are light as they dance amongst the span of his skin. Her fingers cherish him.

"You're all right." Her mouth is tender, skilled within the gentle way that she talks, skilled within the way that she manages a fair balance between different tones, and can negotiate with them when the time calls. It isn't unusual for Kai's back to be pressed flush to Hilary's front, at least, not when he feels like this. He feels like he's crumbling, but wrapped under the strength of her embrace, reminds him that he can be put back together, and he's thankful that she seems willing to try.

"You're a pain, _but you're all right_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Prompt: "What are you doing?"**

 _"I'm capturing all the things I find beautiful."_

 _Camping_ \- Rei had suggested. It'd be a good idea, Max had agreed. It'd be perfect for team building, Kenny had insisted, and Tyson? He thought that it would be nice to train away from home. Hilary had thought that it was the perfect way for her to spend time equally with her friends, and develop different schedules that would assist them within their training. Kai, _on the other hand_ , had been more difficult to persuade, and almost remained reluctant to participate, claiming that he'd rather be taking the training seriously, than to slack off. The next tournament would be around the corner faster than they could anticipate, he'd reminded. Hilary had persuaded him, with the gentle reminder that it'd be nice if they could all work alongside one another again, even if it was just training, and that if it got too much for him, there were plenty of surrounding areas that he could go off too. Plus it meant that they could all be away from the aftermath of the last tournament, and the group deserved that much.

Camping wasn't camping at all. It was three wooden lodges upon a resort site, surrounded by a thick mass of trees, and few hills, and beyond said hills was a large lake. The lake was also surrounded by a large grouping of several trees, from beech to oak, with branches that stretched up towards the blue hue of the sky as if they were reaching for the sun. Kai assumed there would be tents, and the first team building activity they would meet, would be to set up the tents safely and productively. Not to mention that Rei's ex team had also joined forces, with Lee claiming it was a coincidence that they would all meet here. It wasn't a coincidence at all, and Kai thought it was a mere excuse for two teams to goof off and forget the presence of the tournament. He'd snorted at the very idea and chose one of the wooden lodges to retreat too. He chose the one of the edge, where a path just dipped from it and followed out into a collection of greens and browns, and Kai assumed it was one of the many paths that would lead them down to the lake.

The lodges were fairly small and quaint, but with enough room to move around within interfering with someone else's personal space. When you first entered, you were met with a small corridor, and four rooms connected to it. The lounge and kitchen were meshed into one, and it was clear that each lodge could accommodate a maximum of four people. On the right side of the corridor there were two separate rooms - bedrooms - and Kai had investigated both before picking the one that he'd like, only to discover that both rooms had bunks. Hilary had insisted on making the joke that the lodges were not very 'couple-friendly', which left her meeting the faint amused shake of Kai's head. In the end he had chosen the room that was furthest away from the main entrance, and lounge area. Rei had decided to stay in the same lodge as Kai and Hilary, and to begin with, that was okay, until Rei mentioned that Mariah would be staying with them too, insisting that she required female company. The discussion for the girls sharing a room and the boys too, was one that came and went, as it was quickly dismissed by Kai, who ultimately preferred Hilary's company than to hear Rei talk about Mariah and his ex team. It wasn't that Kai disliked the White Tigers, there was a lot of mutual respect regarding their technique and strength, and it was the same for what Lee saw within Kai, but Kai didn't exactly see _eye to eye_ with Mariah - he supposed it was still down to when he'd taken their bit beasts - and he wasn't that interested in the rest of the team either. _Or_ , perhaps Kai just managed to rub Mariah up in the wrong ways. He didn't really care regardless of her reasons.

"This isn't team building, this is just an excuse for them to slack off." There is a bitter twinge to Kai's retort, a foul drawl that notes the irritants that fuels him. Hilary's watching him from the bottom bunk, her legs neatly folded amongst one another, her hands raised just above her head as she forces chestnut coloured locks from her view and pulls them back into a hair tie. She watches as he tosses his shirt to one side - it's elegant, and she wonders how it's possible for an action so careless, to be so graceful - and trades it for a vest before dropping himself down before the bunk. His back is pressed flush against the wooden frame, one leg up at the point of his knee, whilst it sprawled before him.

"We thought it would be nice to train with some friendly faces." Hilary responds, soon draping her legs over Kai's shoulders, insisting her thighs become support should Kai drop his head back. Her legs are almost bare, apart from a pair of socks that accompanied her trainers, and a pair of shorts, the dark blue denim sort, with her shirt tucked carefully into them. She looks wonderful, beyond anything that Kai could describe in words.

" _You knew?_ " He asks as if he was almost oblivious, when really, he had a feeling all along, that this was just another one of their ploys, and he was the fool for thinking they'd actually want to train.

"Would you have come along if I had told that they would be here too?"

"You're lucky I came in the first place."

"Touche." He is oblivious to the smile that drenches her features, the pull of her lips that guides the colour of her smile towards her eyes, and within the hazel nut hue can sanctuary be found. She abruptly forces the the bottom of her palm against the rear of his head, which earns a faint hiss from him, and a bubbling chorus of laughter from her. Oh, if only she could say the smile that has captures his features, and the way in which is pierces his eyes. If only she knew how often he smiles within her presence. _If only_.

They sit like this for a little while longer, her legs draped idly over his shoulders, her socked feet swaying back and forth slightly. His head drops back every so often, to have a quick peak at her, whilst she seems to be focusing on doing something with her camera. He'd not even realised that she had brought it along with them in the first place, until he'd heard her fiddling with something that sounded delicate and occasionally scolding said device under her breath. It's a fairy small camera, with minimal design, but it's a white colouring, and along the bottom, it's a brown, and gives off a wooden effect. It has a strap, the sort that would go around your neck, but it's currently wrapped around the entirety of her wrist. It's a white strap, and in some areas, it is faintly frayed, but nothing too major. He hears a click and thinks nothing of it, but assumes she has managed to get the camera to work. She drops a small photo down upon his lap, and utters beneath her breath that, that was a waste of film, before her weight leans more so above him.

Once again, he thinks little of it, and assumes that she is either attempting to get comfortable, or she's attempting to take a picture of the view from the window aside the bunk. There's another click, a faint flash and an intoxicated giggle, before there is a faint noise of something printing. Kai drops his head back carefully into her thighs, to discover that she's looming over him, the white of the camera before her pretty face, and the light of the sun casting down upon the camera, draws faint shadows across her features. She clicks quickly, and the flash becomes almost blinding, and he realises then that she's been taking pictures of him, rather than the scenery.

"What are you doing?"

" _I'm capturing all the things I find beautiful._ " Hilary responds faintly as she waves the printed photo back and forth faintly in the efforts of waiting for the ink to set. To say that it was a picture she caught of him, with him being off guard, it's incredible how wonderful he can look. It's incredible how the light of the sun warms his naturally white exterior, and all the faint scuffs and pulls of his skin become a little more obvious. It is all the little specs and flaws about him that Hilary finds the most magnificent and intriguing.

" _Disgusting._ "

"Lighten up. You're so dry." Had it been someone else - anyone else that wasn't Hilary - Kai might have just rolled his eyes at the comment, or responded with something witty in aid of shutting down the conversation, and winning one over the other. This isn't someone else, this isn't Tyson, who he could have easily belittled with a snappy comment, or Rei who would have met his remark with another. It isn't Max either, who would have met a sincere laugh and maybe even a light hearted comment. This _is_ Hilary. The girl who has seen through his behaviours, and his mask, and removed them without exploiting his weaknesses. It's the same girl who has witnessed him at his most powerful, and at his weakest, and even then... Even then, nothing had changed. **Nothing**. She didn't see him differently, but saw him in a better light in comparison to others.

"I didn't realise you were into taking photos."

"I wasn't, not really. But I found my camera amongst a bunch of others things. And I have a scrap book, so I thought, why not combine the two." Hilary responds, and carefully she shifts her weight from Kai's shoulders, in the efforts of reaching out an arm to gather up her bag.

"For?"

"For memories, silly. I can look back and remember the idiots that I managed to become friends with. Besides, it isn't like you can all Beyblade for the rest of your lives. I figured making the most of this." She's a photo briefly before him, but when she says 'this', it appears that she is gesturing to well... Whatever this camping trip is supposed to be. She hands the photo to Kai, it's of vibrant colouring, and it's Tyson whilst on the bus, hand buried deep into a large bag of crisps, whilst the other appears to be cramming a fistful of crisps into my mouths. Not the best of looks for him, but it sums up Tyson as a person, and Kai appreciates it.

"Not his best of moments, right? But it's something. I can look back and question how he stayed stick thin." Hilary's comment earns a faint snort from Kai, who is clearly amused by her remark. He soon hands the photo back, and she takes it quickly, and stuffed it face down onto the bed spread behind her. She leans forward once again, hangs above him carefully and casts a shadow upon the features of his face that she can make out from this angle.

"I'd like another one of you."

"You have one."

"Preferably when you are expecting the camera. Um. _Like one of you and me_." Hilary's smile becomes the shadow of a halo pressed flush against the rear of Kai's head as her chin sets upon the top of his head, buried deep within a mass of slate and deep blue hair. He drops his head back carefully, mouth meeting the pleasant flesh of her cheek, where lips brush ever so lightly. It's sincere and it is innocent, and if anything, _it is precious to Hilary_. She's wearing a smile, camera held above them, in an angle good enough for the photo, but also out of Kai's view. She drapes her free arm over his chest, lithe digits clung to the material of his vest, and she so carefully mouths: **smile**.


End file.
